Well, we knew it was going to happen eventually. In spite of all the hoping and praying we do, it always seems to snow here in northeast Ohio. I guess this is probably about average – I remember a year it didn’t snow until the day after Thanksgiving, and a year it snowed on Halloween, but middle of November is about right.
We had a good inch when I went out this morning, which I’ll take. I like lots of snow to play in, but unfortunately, most of my winter consists of driving to and from work, and not enough playing in the snow, so I suppose less is better. And of course, it’ll take most people about a month to remember how to drive in it. Sure, you’ve lived here for 30 years, but… “what is this white stuff falling from the sky? I’m scared. Must. Drive. 20 mph.” Or the alternative, “I have an SUV. Snow? What snow? I have 4-wheel drive. I will continue to bob and weave through traffic at a high rate of speed.” And end up in the guard rail a mile down the road, backing things up for the rest of us. Clearly, I don’t harbor any bad feelings toward other drivers. Really.
There’s always something kind of magical about the first snow. Everything looks so pure and untainted, and the world gets very quiet. Come January, it starts to lose its luster a bit. February, and that magical feeling changes to disgust. By the time we’re in March and April (and if we’re really lucky, May!), it’s usually outright hatred, and we’re looking for some sign, anything, of the spring to come.
Winter gets kind of a bad rap, but I wouldn’t trade it. Shorten by a month or two? Absolutely. But I like having distinct seasons (not that I’d turn down living year-round on Kauai). It just… fits. Winter is a time for rest and rejuvenation in preparation for the hard work that will come with the next spring and summer. The smell of wood smoke, blankets, warm soups and hot bread, and the sharp, crisp air that you can only experience on a December morning.
Hunker down and enjoy it. At least until February.